


In the Arms of Hypnos and Eros

by 00QEros (Dassandre)



Series: Gods and Goddesses of the Small Death [1]
Category: James Bond (Craig movies)
Genre: Come Eating, Comeplay, Consensual Somnophilia, Established Relationship, Fluff and Smut, Hand Jobs, Idiots in Love, It's really consensual though, Kinks, Living Together, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Q Has a Cat, So many kinks I lost track, Switching
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-15
Updated: 2017-02-15
Packaged: 2018-09-24 18:42:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,542
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9780212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dassandre/pseuds/00QEros
Summary: Bond returns from a mission to find Q passed out in their bed, but James can work with that.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * For [springbok7](https://archiveofourown.org/users/springbok7/gifts).



> I really don't know how this story came together. What I had planned was a nice piece of Valentine's Day fluff based on the Tumblr photo linked at the end of the story, and suddenly the kink bunny came hopping through the plot line and BAM! this was the result. I do hope you like it. However, as this story was a spur of the moment thing, it has been neither beta read nor Brit-picked beyond what I was able to see myself.
> 
> This is dedicated to my dear friend Springbok7 as proof that I can write something shorter than 30k, and it is also dedicated to all the wonderfully crazy 00Q shippers in the Facebook group. Thanks so much for welcoming me. I love you all!
> 
> I'm pretty sure that I hit all the important tags, but if I missed one or two, I apologize.
> 
>  
> 
> P.S. Q's cat is named after Lord Byron's daughter, Ada, Lady Lovelace, who was herself a poet as well as a pioneering mathematician. I thought those two skills would appeal to our dear Quartermaster when naming his cat.

* * *

 

For once it wasn’t the plaintive mewling of a pathetic feline convinced she was half-starved that woke Q from his slumber.  In fact, the MI6 Quartermaster could feel Ada’s warm weight curled up in the small space between his pillow and the headboard, purring like a lorry engine.  

No, from what Q could tell, he had been pulled from sleep by the close press of a warm, naked body and a set of powerful arms that were wrapped around him from behind.   

“When d’ya get ‘n?” he asked sleepily, snuggling closer into the man at his back.  He was still exhausted.  On a good morning, it typically took at least half an hour and two cups of Earl Grey before Q was cognizant enough to construct grammatically correct sentences, but considering the way he had been run ragged the last several days, it would take significantly more than that.  However, based on the dull glow of street lamps peeking through the gap between the blackout curtains, he still had the opportunity for several more hours of sleep.  No sense in making too much of a commitment to wakefulness.

“A little over three hours ago,” James said into the curls on the top of Q’s head.  His words rumbled through Q’s chest as much as they did into his ears, and Q smiled at the sensation.  Q had a James Bond voice kink as much as he did a James Bond ear kink.  

“N’vr heard y’come in.”

“Spy, remember.”  James brushed his lips against Q’s temple.  “I think the mission was more taxing on you, this time, than on me.  You need your sleep, love.”

Q certainly wasn’t going to argue the point.  For the last ten days Bond, Gemma Delanie, and Rand DiNapoli -- Double-Os Three and Eight -- had been involved in a joint investigation with the DGSE and three of their operatives with MI6 serving as the lead agency.  The intelligence obtained, detailing the inner workings of a very well-organised bioterrorism cell based in the Ukraine, had led the agents through six different countries in five days and had kept Q and his small army of minions running themselves ragged that entire time to provide the most up-to-the-minute data to ensure that half the population of Eastern Europe didn’t die from a deadly super-flu.

“Y’r not hurt?”

“Not in the least.  I’d tell you if I was.”  James ran his hand down the naked flank of his lover not so much to seduce as to reassure.

“Liar.”

James’ low chuckle sent shivers of pleasure through Q. “Occasionally, but not this time.”  He kissed Q in that tender spot behind his earlobe.  Q hummed with happiness but continued to lie languidly in Bond’s arms, still very far from being awake, which suited James just fine.  Though his back was to him, James knew that Q wore that particularly adorable sleepy smile when he was pleased with something James had said or did but was still to sleep-drugged for it to fully register on his face.

James had yet to sleep.  It had taken him the better part of the day to get home, but he was still keyed up.  The flight from Odessa, with layovers in Istanbul and Vienna, had been bad enough, but Mallory had insisted upon an immediate debrief, and had sent Tanner and Moneypenny to meet the three Double-Os at Heathrow.  Had it just been Tanner, Bond would have found it easy enough to escape back to the flat he and Q had called home for three years, but M had learned a thing or two over the years, and in a stroke of either genius or cruelty had sent Moneypenny along as well.  Moneypenny was as tenacious as they came, and in some ways, she was better at anticipating James’ next move than the Quartermaster himself.  Bond never stood a chance at getting past her.  The debrief had lasted nearly four hours, by which time Q had long since gone home to collapse in their bed.

James had quietly made his way past the complex security system Q had installed in their flat, and had used all of his stealth training to ensure that Q didn’t hear him come down the hallway to their room.  James smiled at the trail of clothing his boffin had left from the door to the foot of the bed.  Normally, Q was the epitome of fastidiousness, but such was not the case when he reached the levels of exhaustion that this mission had incurred upon him.  Thankfully, Ada merely opened an eye to acknowledge James’ return and didn’t wake her daddy.  

James had made quick work of his own clothing and slid beneath the covers, inching slowly closer to the sleeping Quartermaster, all the while making sure that his sudden weight on the mattress didn’t wake Q from his much-needed sleep.   Once he was certain that Q remained well and truly asleep, James gently wrapped his arms around his love and simply watched him sleep.

Q was the most beautiful person James had ever known: inside, outside, in every way that mattered, and even in ways that didn’t.  Even after all these years, James wasn’t entirely certain what he had done right in his otherwise violent life to deserve the love of such an amazing man.  

Q wasn’t perfect.  Far from it.  He could be arrogant and dismissive, stroppy and bitter.  He worked too long, ate too little, and it wasn’t uncommon for him to make himself ill in the process.  Nevertheless, Q was loyal and loving, brilliant and compassionate, tender and strong, and he engendered the devotion of all around him for his unwavering dedication to the agents in his charge.  He could have his choice of anyone inside or outside of MI6 -- he had been propositioned more times than either of them could count -- but for some reason, Q had chosen James to share his life.

“You’re funny and smart and keep me on my toes when you’re not driving me ‘round the twist, James,” Q had said about six months into their relationship when James had asked his lover that very question late one night as they held each other, fully clothed, on the narrow mattress of the futon in Q’s office after James had returned from a particularly harrowing mission.  “But more than that, you’re a good man  An honorable man.  Why wouldn’t I choose to be with you?”

James had had difficulty taking that assertion at face value; he had lost too much and been betrayed once too often in his life to be anything but suspicious of such unconditional love, but in the months and years that followed, Q had in several big ways and in countless little ones proven that James was worth loving and that Q wasn’t going anywhere.

The only thing James questioned anymore was Q’s addiction to lamb and mint flavoured crisps and his suspect love of American reality telly.  Try as he might, James just couldn’t understand Q’s fascination with _Bridezillas_ and _The Real Housewives of_ … whatever city it was that wasn’t London.  

For hours, James observed Q as he slept in his arms.  He watched the gentle rise and fall of the boffin’s chest and listened to the adorable snuffles and snores that only ever issued forth from the man when he was truly exhausted and sleeping like the dead.  A broad smile broke across James’ face when Q woke himself with a particularly abrupt snore and finally grew aware that he was being held in James’ arms.

The ensuing conversation was typical of Q’s inability to wake fully after working himself into the ground, and it was the matter of a few minutes before James felt Q begin to relax against him as sleep again began to pull him under.

Consequently, James was a bit surprised when Q reached down, took Bond’s hand in his own, and slid it across his hip to rest between his legs.  Q then guided James’ hand until his fingers were wrapped around Q’s quiescent cock.

_Oh, God!  Yes, please!_

“You sure, love?” James asked, thankful that he was able to keep the hitch out of his breath when Q’s fingers, folded as they were around James’ hand on his own cock, squeezed an affirmative.

James kissed the hinge of Q’s jaw and lingered there a moment before nipping gently at Q’s earlobe.  “You’re too good to me,” he whispered in Q’s ear as he slid his free hand beneath Q’s pillow to grab the small bottle of lube they stashed between the mattress and the headboard.

His actions disturbed Ada who woke with fangs bared and an accompanying hiss of anger before bolting off the bed, heading for the sitting room.   Q shifted slightly in James’ arms but otherwise showed no signs that he had been disturbed by the cat’s protests.  James exhaled a small huff of relief, as this was always so much better the sleepier Q was.

They didn’t do this often.  With their crazy schedules and the limited hours either of them usually found for actual sleep, the opportunity rarely presented itself.  James couldn’t remember exactly when he and Q had discovered that James had this particular kink -- it certainly hadn’t been anything he’d been aroused by prior to Q -- but he was always grateful when Q indulged him.

“It’s not as if I’m an unwilling participant, James.  Just a largely unconscious one.  Besides, you know how I love waking up all sticky with your come on my skin,” Q had reminded him after the third time they had indulged.

It wasn’t just the somnophilic aspects of this activity that aroused James.  He loved, truly _got off_ on the sensation of Q’s not insubstantial cock growing and filling his hand -- or his mouth -- as Q got hard. James had certainly slept with other men in his years as a Double-O, but there was something about knowing that he, James Bond, was the one to elicit such a primal response in the seemingly-aloof Quartermaster that just did it for him.  It was at once a powerful and humbling sensation, and without fail that, combined with Q’s barely conscious state, generated in James the most intense orgasms he had ever experienced.

James deftly popped the cap of the lube and squeezed a generous dollop of the viscous liquid onto the palm of the hand that had been wrapped around Q’s penis.  “Lift up, love,” he whispered in Q’s ear, and the younger man -- who was back to huffing light snores on each exhale -- sleepily raised his leg so that James could coat the inside of his thighs and his bollocks with the gel.  James was mostly hard by the time he slid between Q’s thighs. He then coated his hand with more of the lubricant and began stroking Q’s still limp cock.

James gripped Q’s cock firmly, initially just using the pressure of his palm and fingers to coax the organ to hardness.  As it firmed in his hand, James began to use the pad of his thumb to sweep across the slit as the glans slowly emerged from the foreskin.  Though Q’s snores changed to deep sighs the more James worked his cock, the boffin showed no signs of fully waking, and as James worked his grip more quickly over Q’s increasing length, James began thrusting his own erection slowly between Q’s thighs, letting the heat and the slick and the friction to envelop and stimulate his own arousal.

 _God, Q!_  

Though James only just managed to keep the words in his own mind, he was unable to contain the groan that welled up in his throat when Q pushed back into James’ chest and shifted slightly in his sleep, tightening the grip his thighs had on James’ cock in the process.

James’ breathing suddenly grew ragged -- he never lasted long when they did this, it was just too … _too_ much -- and he began to thrust and stroke more quickly, desperately chasing the orgasm that was building at the base of his spine but not wanting to come before he managed to pull Q’s completion from him.  Whether his lover topped or bottomed, was consciously aware of it or not, James always worked to ensure that Q came first.  The sensation of Q’s come erupting over James’ hand or in James’ arse always heightened the Double-O’s pleasure, and Q certainly never objected -- even if he sometimes had to wake up before he could fully appreciate it.  

James’ fist flew over Q’s erection; it was the hardest he had felt it in quite some time -- steel and satin. His own cock felt close to splitting in two, and James rutted mindlessly, clasping Q’s drowsy form to him tightly as he let his animalistic need drive him.

James groaned and chanted Q’s name -- his real name -- breathlessly, and for the first time since they started, Q began to move his hips in a slow counterpoint to James’ desperation.

Q’s sounds of pleasure were caught between a moan and a snore, but James felt that familiar tightening in his palm.  That final surge of tumescence that indicated Q was on the cusp of coming.  A heartbeat later, hot come surged again and again over James’ hand, and Q’s cry of release filled the space between them.  As James pulled the last vestiges of Q’s orgasm from his body, James’ hips suddenly lost their own rhythm when Q sleepily pulled James’s hand from his cock to suck his own come from the flesh of James’ fingers.

James cried out, completely unable to contain his release either verbally or between Q’s thighs.  His come spilled and rushed out of him, coating the inside of Q’s legs and the crack of his arse and along the top of his hip when James’ cock accidentally slipped free from Q’s thighs in his ragged completion.

When they were both able to breathe steadily again, James nuzzled Q’s temple and kissed and licked the tender skin of his neck while he massaged his come into Q’s skin.  It was a territorial, possessive act that Q insisted upon.  When he had finished, James pressed his fingers to Q’s lips, and again the boffin sucked the fingers clean, this time far more sleepily than he had before.  Orgasms always had the effect of relaxing the Quartermaster, but as intense as Q’s orgasms were when they did this, it was always a matter of minutes before he passed out completely -- again.

“Love you, James,” Q mumbled when he had finished with his lover’s fingers.

“I love you too, Thomas.”  James hitched a leg over both of Q’s and pulled the man ever closer, one hand wrapped around his torso, the other clutching Q’s hand in his atop the pillows next to Q’s face.  “Love you more than I can say.”

He felt, more than saw, Q finally drift fully to sleep, and in those few moments, before he followed his lover, James thought about the small box he had tucked away in an unused gym bag at the back of the wardrobe in the guest bedroom and the plain platinum band that lay within.  

It was time, James thought.  It was more than time.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope that you enjoyed this bit of crazy, kinky fluff. I love comments! I cherish comments! I need comments like Q needs tech ... well, no, yeah, like Q needs tech! If you liked the tale, do I hope you'll let me know. Kudos are great (one little button to push), but comments totally make my day and with parent/teacher conferences coming up later this week, I need all the positive feedback I can get, I think. ;)
> 
> Cheers!!


End file.
